Nobody Said It Was Easy
by Lady Eleanor Boleyn
Summary: May 1523. Cardinal Wolsey has just broken off Anne Boleyn's betrothal to Henry Percy and Henry Percy must learn to live with the fallout. Songfic to Coldplay's The Scientist.


_**Nobody Said It Was Easy**_

_**Come up to meet you,**_

_**Tell you I'm sorry**_

_**You don't know how lovely you are**_

**May 1523**

"Mistress Anne! Wait! Mistress Anne!" Henry Percy, future Earl of Northumberland, ran after Anne Boleyn as she walked straight past him without so much as wishing him a good day, or even seeming to recognise him at all. He caught up to her as she turned the corner into the passage that led to the Queen's rooms and caught her arm. She stopped, but as she turned to him, her eyes weren't light and smiling as they used to be. They were dark and sorrowful. He would have sworn that they were red rimmed, but his Anne never cried. Never.

"Please, Lady Anne. Won't you smile on me as you used to?" he begged. Anne pulled away, and her eyes were burning.

"Why? Tell me why I should smile on you, Lord Percy? Give me one good reason."

"Because I love you!" Henry cried, stunned that she should even ask such a thing. Anne shook her head.

"No, Lord Percy. You don't love me. You think you love me, but you don't."

"I swore to marry you!" he exclaimed.

"And wilted beneath the Cardinal! If you loved me, really loved me as much as you claim to, you wouldn't have listened to him. You'd have married me anyway!"

"Defied the Cardinal? Are you mad, Mistress Anne? He's the mightiest man in England!

"That doesn't matter! You'd still have done it!" she hissed, her eyes suddenly aflame with passion. "As it is, I'm being banished to Hever with immediate effect, and it's all your fault!"

With that, she spun on her heel and fled. Henry watched her go. Did she realise how bewitchingly beautiful she was when she was angry? No wonder he'd been enchanted by her months ago.

_**I had to find you,**_

_**Tell you I need you,**_

_**Tell you **__**I'll set you apart**_

**Two weeks earlier...**

Henry waited impatiently for the barge to draw up outside Whitehall Palace. Cardinal Wolsey heaved himself out and then strode up the path to the great golden doors. Henry hurried after him and then, as soon as he was sure he wouldn't be missed, fled in the opposite direction, towards the Queen's rooms.

He bowed as he entered, but it wasn't Queen Katherine he'd come to see. It was the dark eyed beauty quietly sewing by the window. Queen Katherine understood, and didn't keep him long. She waved him away after only the briefest of bows and then he was free. Free to hurry over to Lady Anne, his sweetheart.

"Lady Anne." He sank down beside her. She lifted her head and smiled brilliantly. "Lord Percy."

"I have something I want to ask you. Can we not go somewhere we can be alone?"

Anne shook her head. "I can't leave the Queen's rooms without her permission. Particularly not with a gentleman such as y0urself." She saw the disappointment in his eyes – God knows, she was good at that – and softened. "But draw the curtain and we can talk in private."

He did so and then turned back to her, capturing her lips in his for a brief kiss. She yielded, as she always did once they were alone and out of sight of prying eyes.

"Anne!" He sighed her name into the kiss, and she chuckled. "Henry. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I can't remember." He teased.

"Well, do try. We won't have long like this." Anne replied, an edge to her otherwise musical voice. Henry groaned.

"This is torture. I wish we didn't have to be apart, Anne. You're the only one I've ever wanted. The only one I could ever imagine wanting. I wish we could have an eternity together, and not just stolen moments."

"Oh, Henry. So do I. So do I." Anne murmured, her gorgeous dark eyes flickering shut as she spoke.

"Then marry me!" Henry spoke the words without thinking of the consequences. Anne's eyes snapped open.

"What? Henry -"

Henry cut off, a flood of words suddenly occurring to him.

"I've wanted to ask you for ages, but the time never seemed right. But now I am asking. I haven't got a ring for you, or even a speech, but I love you. You're the only one I can think about. Anne Boleyn, my mademoiselle, will you please, please marry me?"

_**Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions,**_

_**Oh let's go back to the start**_

"Yes." Henry could hardly believe his luck when Anne smiled and nodded.

"What?"

"Yes." Anne repeated. "I said yes, Henry. I will marry you. I will be your Countess of Northumberland. I'd love to. Why, I'd rather be Harry's Countess than King Henry's Queen, even."

"Oh Anne!" Henry couldn't help himself. He caught her in his arms and hugged her hard.

He could hardly bear to let go of her, but when he finally did, they stayed there in that window seat, talking and laughing, for what seemed like forever. It was as though, now that they had sworn to marry, they wanted to get to know one another all over again.

_**Running in circles,**_

_**Coming in tails**_

_**Heads on a science apart**_

It hadn't always been that easy. The first time they'd met, in December 1522, it had been at a ball, and they'd both been wearing masks. Henry, thinking he was dancing with his betrothed, Mary Talbot, who he did not like at all, had snapped "Don't think you'll ever get your hands on the Percy fortune, Mistress Talbot."

Anne, bless her, had been completely gracious, and merely answered "But I do not think it, my Lord." before dipping down into a curtsy and taking off her mask as everyone else did the same. Her dark raven hair had begun to escape the confines of her hood because of the exercise and was framing her pale face as Henry helped her up and brushed her hand with his lips. His stomach flipped over and he found he was breathless as he spoke. "Forgive me, Mistress. I did not realise that you were not the person that I thought you were. My fervent apologies. I am Lord Henry Percy. If I might actually ask; who are you?"

"I'm the daughter of the Ambassador Thomas Boleyn." She replied crisply, trying to pull her hand away.

"But your Christian name, Mistress? For pity's sake, tell me your name."

"It's Anne. Anne Boleyn. Now, My Lord, if you'll let me go?" Anne retorted, and Henry nodded. "Of course, Mistress Anne. Forgive me."

He let her go and she strode away without a backward glance, her cream and gold skirts swishing.

_**Nobody said it was easy**_

_**It's such a shame for us to part**_

He'd offended her then, but at least he'd been able to redeem himself. He'd been able to win her heart despite his first blunder. Now it was too late. Now, Cardinal Wolsey had separated them and there was nothing he could do to win her back. Even though he loved her; would love her until he died. He longed to call after her, but he knew it was useless. Once Anne blamed someone and vowed revenge, she never forgave them. She'd never forgive him for not standing up to Wolsey and his father. As he watched her go, something his elder sister Margaret had said to him once flashed into his head "Love isn't easy, Harry. If it's easy, then it's not real. You'd do better to let someone go if you find loving them too easy."

How right she was. Love wasn't easy. But neither was letting someone go, even if it was the right thing to do. Anne was gone, vanished round the corner and it honestly felt as though she had taken part of his heart with her.

_**Nobody said it was easy**_

_**No one said it would be this hard**_

_**Oh take me back to the start**_

Was love really meant to be this hard? Even though Margaret had said so, he found it very hard to believe. All he could think about was his first meeting with Anne, and how he wished it had gone differently. Maybe if that had gone differently, the rest of their relationship would have gone differently too. Maybe they would have fallen in love sooner; married before Wolsey found out and tore them apart.

Henry closed his eyes, and he was back there, back at the masque where he met Anne for the very first time. He watched himself dance with her, heard her voice ringing in his ears, cringed as he himself offended her.

"_Don't think you'll ever get your hands on the Percy fortune, Mistress Talbot."_

"_But I do not think it, my Lord."_

"_Forgive me, Mistress. I did not realise that you were not the person that I thought you were. My fervent apologies. I am Lord Henry Percy. If I might actually ask; who are you?" "I'm the daughter of the Ambassador Thomas Boleyn." _

"_But your Christian name, Mistress? For pity's sake, tell me your name."_

"_It's Anne. Anne Boleyn. Now, My Lord, if you'll let me go?"_

_ "Of course, Mistress Anne. Forgive me."_

_**I was just guessing at numbers and figures**_

_**Pulling the puzzles apart**_

_**Questions of science, science and progress**_

_**Do not speak as loud as my heart**_

Anne had kept herself aloof from Henry after that, an action for which he could scarcely blame her. He'd treated her dreadfully at the masque. He used to lie awake at night, unable to sleep for thinking of her and wondering how he best stood a chance of winning her for his own. In the end, he had decided the best thing to do was to seduce her. Court her with all the gallantry of a Knight of the Round Table.

He had secretly watched her from a distance, noting which colours she liked to wear, which jewels suited her dark hair and creamy complexion best. At last, he had had it. He had commissioned the jewellers to make a brooch for her to wear in her hair. It was a bird made of rose gold with outstretched wings and set with both rubies and pearls. He had gone to Queen Katherine's rooms and begged Anne to accept his apologies for the way he had treated her on their first meeting. He had told her that he hadn't been able to sleep for thinking of her, that he desired her more than he had ever desired anyone before in his life and then he had handed her the box containing the brooch.

She had opened it and stared down at the contents, unable to believe what she was seeing. Then she had looked up at him and murmured "You had this made for me, Lord Percy?"

"Yes. For you, Mistress Anne. As - as a token of - of my grounded – grounded affection. Of my love." He had stumbled over his words, but it hadn't mattered. Her dark eyes had been shining as she lifted them to his. A thousand emotions had crossed her young face and she had murmured "So you love me! And there I was, thinking – oh, never mind!" She had flung herself at him then, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you! Thank you so much, Lord Percy."

"Henry, please. Mistress Anne, it must be Henry." He had answered firmly, trying to hide the delight he was feeling at holding her in his arms.

Impulsively, he had tipped her head back and found her mouth with his. Instantly, she pulled away. "I can't! Henry, I can't!"

"Why not? If you love me and I love you, why not?" he had protested, before she began to explain. "I'm a maid of good birth, Henry. I can't allow my reputation to be ruined. Showing emotion over your gift was dangerous enough. Kissing you here would be even worse. You know what this Court's like for gossip. If your father and Wolsey found out…"

"What do they matter? They're just old men, old men who cling to traditional values. Let them shake their heads if they want, Anne. We are England's future, not them. We are England's future, and we are in love. I swear to you, nothing means more to me than you. You could tell me I would be King tomorrow, and I wouldn't care, not if I couldn't take you as my Queen!"

Henry had stood by his words as well. As King Henry and his favoured councillors began to plan the annual summer progress, he hadn't taken part in the discussions, even though, as the Earl of Northumberland's heir and representative at Court, he ought to have done. The summer progress meant nothing to him. Let them go to Bradgate if they wanted. Let them go to Hanworth. Let them go to Tattershall. He didn't care. As long as Anne came along as one of Queen Katherine's attendants, he didn't care where they went. Questions like that; questions that concerned day to day life paled in comparison to the revelations that were taking place in his heart.

_**Tell me you love me**_

_**Come back and haunt me**_

_**Oh and I rush to the start**_

And now it was gone. All the smiles, all the dances, all the whispered conversations beneath the stars. It was all gone. All of it. Anne was banished, sent home to Hever in disgrace, and his own punishment couldn't be far behind. He lived in fear of what it would be.

In the meantime, however, Anne was the only person on his mind, the only one he could think about. Every night, she haunted him. She appeared to him in his dreams, calling to him in that low musical voice of hers. "Henry. Henry. My Henry. Come to me, my Henry. Come to me and love me. Love me like I love you. I'll stand by our promise to each other. Just come to me and support me."

Every time, he would try to run towards her, shouting her name "Anne! Anne!" but it was like running through treacle. His legs scarcely obeyed him and, by the time he reached her, her eyes, her beautiful dark eyes, would be cold and hard with resentment, pain and forced indifference. "It's too late." She would say, pulling back from his outstretched hand. "It's too late. You didn't come to my aid when I needed you most. It's too late, My Lord. I'm sorry, but it's too late."

Then she would fade away with one last seductive smile - just enough to wrench at his heartstrings – and he would wake, breathing hard. He knew he would never be free of her; not unless there was a way to go back in time and manage to win her for his wife, and keep her this time.

_**Running in circles**_

_**Chasing our tails**_

_**Coming back as we are**_

But that was impossible. Much as he would love to be able to do that, it was impossible. No, all that Anne and he would ever be able to have were the memories of one beautiful spring and the unrealised possibilities of their future together. If they ever met again at Court, they would simply have to be "Lord Percy" and "Mistress Boleyn" to each other. The days of being on first name terms were well and truly over. They would have to dance around each other like a pair of graceful dancers in a masque or an intricate dance. They would have to stay at arm's length, no matter how much it hurt. If only their families had agreed to the match. If only he'd had the courage to do as Anne wanted and defy Wolsey. If only he hadn't offended her more than once. Then she might have forgiven him, might have believed that he loved her more than anyone else in the world and always would. Now, however, it was too late. She wouldn't; would never trust him again. He would just rue that first error all his life until the day he died.

_**Nobody said it was easy**_

_**Oh, it's such a shame for us to part **_

_**Nobody said it was easy**_

_**No one said it would be so hard**_

_**I'm going back to the start**_

_Don't think you'll ever get your hands on the Percy fortune, Mistress Talbot."_

"_But I do not think it, my Lord."_

"_Forgive me, Mistress. I did not realise that you were not the person that I thought you were. My fervent apologies. I am Lord Henry Percy. If I might actually ask; who are you?" "I'm the daughter of the Ambassador Thomas Boleyn." _

"_But your Christian name, Mistress? For pity's sake, tell me your name."_

"_It's Anne. Anne Boleyn. Now, My Lord, if you'll let me go?"_

_ "Of course, Mistress Anne. Forgive me."_

In the privacy of his apartments, Henry Percy sank down against the wall and wept as though his heart was breaking, because his heart was breaking. He had lost the only girl he had ever truly loved and his heart was breaking.

"Forgive me, Anne. Forgive me." He cried, but it was too late. She would never even hear him, let alone forgive him. It was too late. Far too late. He could never start again, not with her. Anne Boleyn hardly ever gave second chances, let alone third ones. He had bungled their relationship twice and now he had to live with the consequences. He would never have her for his own, however much he wanted her.


End file.
